Mystical Changes
by Shoujo Kitsune
Summary: light slash DracoHarry After a tough day at his Private School, Harry Potter receives a mysterious Turkish coffee which could give him the answers to his problems. Or will it just cause more confusion? Crackfic: not in cannon
1. The Ibrik

Title: Mystical Changes  
Author: Shoujo Kitsune  
Pairing: Some Harry/Ginny Eventually Draco/Harry  
Rating: K+ (PG)  
Warnings: Shonen-ai aka. light slash  
Disclaimer: I don't own the main characters (They belong J. K. Rowling). But everything eles belongs to me.  
Summary: After a tough day at his Private School,Harry Potterreceives a mysterious Turkish coffee which could give him the answers to his problems. Or will it just cause more confusion? (Crackfic: not in cannon)

**Chapter One: The Ibrik**

Water rushed past Harry's ears as he choked on the filthy fluid. He fought to hold his breath despite the pressure against his head. The fingers in his hair tightened to pull his head out of the toilet and he gasped before having his head flushed a second time. His eyes stung as he fought to keep them shut, and his lungs were painfully tight from holding his breath. Although Harry couldn't see him, he knew Malfoy was supervising his humiliation. He could imagine him directing his cronies, but standing to the side; unwilling to soil his own hands. It had become his weekly routine. Wake up, go to school, attend class, and get his head flushed by Malfoy's henchmen Crabbe or Goyle. With another strong tug on his hair Harry's abuser tossed him to the side, his tears mingling with the toilet water, as his head slammed in the side of the stall. Crabbe was snickering while he wiped his pudgy hands against his grey school pants, stomped out, and threw the stall-door shut behind him. Crabbe was tall, bulky and on the rugby team, while Harry was slight and ran track. Malfoy had somehow gotten out of playing sports; his Father had probably paid off the school. Malfoy was a sixteen year old who had light blond hair, and grey eyes. His eye brows and lashes were so pail colored they look white. He had a handsome squared off chin and broad shoulders, and although he wasn't tall his demeanor demanded respect.

Harry could hear them leaving as he coughed up water onto the tile floor of the men's bathroom. Pieces of toilet paper clung to his neck and he brushed them off while gasping and rolling onto his stomach. Harry pulled himself out of the puddle he lay in and cautiously pushed open the door of the bathroom stall. With one hand he pushed back his dripping brown hair and frowned at his reflection. His white dress shirt clung to his skin, revealing the contours of his ribs, and giving him a malnourished appearance. With one finger he touched his forehead and winced. With a handful of paper towels he attempted to dry off a bit rubbing his hair and wringing out his shirt. Luckily he hadn't gotten any blood on his school uniform this time.

_I hate cleaning out blood stains_. Harry looked at his watch which read 7:16pm. _Shit!_

Now he had missed the last school bus, which meant he would have a long walk before he could get home. He slowly bent over and began to pick up his books and papers which lay scattered across the bathroom floor and stuffed them into his backpack before exiting the men's restroom and beginning the three mile trek to the nearest city bus stop. He frowned at his cell phone, which was blinking lethargically instead of glowing. He sighed before dialing Ginny's number. The fingers in his pocket were crossed as he hoped his call would go though. But, the phone rejected his attempts and shut itself off instead. After a bad day, Harry would immediately call Ginny. She always seemed to calm his nerves and knew the right things to say. Ginny lived on his street, and even though she attended a different school, they still managed to find the time to get together. She was fifteen, a year younger then Harry, and they had been casually dating for almost a year. Despite their enduring relationship, they acted more like good friends then a couple.

It was Harry's second year as a Senior High Student at Saint Godric School for Boys and he was already looking forward to finishing. For the past two months he had kept a calendar on the wall of his bedroom, where he tallied the days until graduation. He was looking forward to university, and had his mind set on a place called Hogwarts. Well, that was if he managed to pass. With the combination of Malfoy constantly on his tail, and the strict academic program at his school, he wasn't doing too well in his classes. Harry was sure he had failed the mathematics test he had taken that morning, which added to the misery of the day.

His backpack was draped over his back heavily as he shuffled down the street in his soiled uniform. He had rearranged it the best he could in the school bathroom, and hid his embroidered crest so that his rumpled appearance would less likely be reported. It was dark enough already to disguise his school colors. He didn't want to get in trouble for looking like a ruffian. The walk-by traffic looked his way curiously as they passed by, and he could feel their lingering stares.

"Sir, are you alright." He heard someone ask, and he turned to the side to see a young boy looking at him from the front step of a small family-owned grocery store. He was observing Harry's crumpled shirt with his dark eyes partially covered by a mess of shiny black hair. The little boy's skin was brown and he was dressed in a blue t-shirt and a pair of shorts that revealed his knobby knees.

"I'm fine." He said curtly, continuing down the street.

"You want some of my candies?" The boy called after him, which made Harry smile at his effort.

"Are they the type of candies that give you better grades?"

"Not really." He said. "But my dad might be willing to sell you something that might." At that, the boy popped up and grabbed the edge of Harry's shirt to pull him into the store. It was small and contained shelves holding imported foods from the Middle East. The packages were colorful with primary patterns in bright yellows, reds and blues with Arabic writing.

"Abu" the boy called "I found us a customer." A man with thick black hair, a mustache and an apron stood up from shelving cans to greet them. He glanced at Harry's rumpled appearance and smiled at him in a friendly manner.

"What can I do for you?" He questioned Harry in a heavy accent. Harry looked down at the floor.

"I'm sorry Sir, but I was just joking around."

"He wants better grades" the boy interrupted. "You should sell him Grandmothers coffee."

"But that coffee is old."

"So sell it cheep." The man sighed and walked to the back of the store. After fetching a package in a dusty blue tin, he placed it carefully on the counter.

"Now," he warned, "This coffee is old, so it may not work. But my mother told me it contains an ancient herbal remedy which sooths the soul and enlightens the drinker." He smiled and continued. "There is a legend that says when one needs to be clear of thought and sharp in wit they would have someone prepare this coffee. Its dramatic effects would bring about a change in attitude and outlook. We don't normally sell it, so this is the only package we have. You may have it for free, if you buy an ibruk." Seeing Harry's baffled expression he explained. "An ibruk is a long-handled pot to brew Turkish coffee." He showed Harry to the other side of the store were there was a variety of small oddly shaped copper vessels. They were narrower at the top and had long wooden handles which were painted black. "The small ibruks are $15 and they serve a 4.5 oz demitasse cup. That should be fine for you." Harry nodded as the man placed the ibruk in his hand and started to write out directions.

"First you add water to your Ibrik until it's around two-thirds full. Then add sugar, if you want sweetened coffee and a spoonful of ground coffee. The coffee forms a cap over the water, and as you heat the Ibrik, the boiling water will bubble up through the coffee grounds. This is where the shape of the Ibrik is important. When the water foams up, remove from heat. After it has settled, bring back to the heat source. Once your coffee has foamed up three times, then it is done. You can then stir and serve in espresso cups but, let the grounds settle before drinking." Harry took the instructions and paid the man before walking out of the store with the bag containing the tea and Ibrik. He added these to his already heavy backpack. He smiled at the mans generosity, it had cheered his mood although he didn't believe coffee could change a persons state of mind. He continued the walk to the bus stop smiling in silence and rode the bus examining the curious object he had just bought.

Harry opened the door to his house cautiously before sprinting down the stairs to his room and shutting his door behind him. He had no interest in his Aunt noticing him. But, it was already too late.

"Harry" he heard her calling down and winced.

"What?" He screamed at the door while rummaging though his clothing for a cleaner shirt.

"When are you going to clean up your room." He heard his Aunt asking and turned to see her standing in the door frame with her lips pulled tight and a well manicured hand tapping on her tailored slacks.

"When I get to it." His Aunt wasn't a terrible woman, but she was terribly hard to please. Her name was Petunia, and she was a tall woman with a ridiculously long neck. Her blonde hair was layered and she had gotten her small nose redone recently. When he was younger, Harry had hated her. But by now he was used to her presence and tolerated her fussing; most of the time. Petunia was still tapping her nails franticly so Harry started putting things away in a lazy effort to make her leave. She left, convinced he was doing something productive, so he opened up the window in his room and climbed out of the window dragging his backpack with him. Once he had escaped, he ran to visit Ginny.


	2. Transformation

**Chapter Two: Transformation**

He rang her door bell a couple of times before it was answered by Ginny's mother.

"Hello Mrs. Wesley." Harry waved a quick greeting, before slipping past and running up to Ginny's sewing room. Ginny spent most of her free time in that room, where she made her own clothing. She had even started a website where she had sold a few pieces she had made. Harry opened the door without knocking and when she turned to see who it was, he gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Miss me?" She asked.

"Terribly" Harry answered. Ginny smiled, revealing a dimple on her right cheek. Ginny had bright brown eyes and flaming red hair that reached down her back. Light freckles covered her nose and her cubby cheeks. What Harry liked the most about her, was her disposition. Ginny was always beaming when she saw him.

"So – how was school today?" Ginny asked him. Harry rolled his eyes dramatically and draped himself over the chair next to the sewing machine. "That bad, eh?"

"Worse." Harry responded.

"Was it Malfoy again?" To that Harry nodded and frowned.

"And I failed a math test, and Petunia was nagging me about the state of my room again." Ginny smiled in sympathy. "But, I got a nifty coffee pot." Harry continued perking up and rummaging in his backpack.

"What did you get a coffee pot for?"

"Well it's a magical coffee pot…" he stopped there.

"Magical?"

"What I meant was that it seems magical because it's so exotic." At this Ginny raised an eyebrow but remained silent. Harry revealed his prize slowly and grinned when Ginny peered closer to investigate.

"How does it work?" Harry pulled out the instructions and started reading them to her. He explained the friendly man at the import store, and the ancient coffee he had received. Ginny remained cynical, but mentioned that they should try it out. Ginny picked up the Ibrik and Harry grabbed the coffee and they hurried down to the kitchen. Harry read out the directions, while Ginny followed them meticulously. It wasn't long until Harry was holding a steaming cup of Turkish coffee in an old Christmas mug. Harry stared at the coffee, stirred it with a spoon a couple of times and tried blowing on it.

"Just drink it already." she muttered. So Harry took a small experimental sip. "Well?"

"Not bad." He replied before finishing it off and adding a bit more to the mug. Ginny watched him carefully.

"Feel any different - smarter?"

"Not really." He shrugged. It had been fun, and he hadn't really expected a miracle.

"Well I should probably head home, before Petunia misses me and has a fit." He rinsed his Ibric and returned it with the coffee to its bag. "See you tomorrow." Harry called out before going upstairs for his backpack and running back to his house. He returned to find his window shut and locked. "Shit" He trudged to the front door where he knew Petunia would be waiting for him.

After getting lectured about respecting family rules, eating a late dinner, and finishing his homework, Harry was finally able to relax. He had been so desperate to leave the house earlier; he hadn't even had a shower. Now he felt filthy. It took until an hour later for him to feel clean again but even with the grime gone, he knew there would be bruises in the morning. He placed his Ibrik reverently on the top of his dresser, before pulling on his cotton pajamas. They were red with randomly placed gold buttons and embroidered geometric patterns Ginny had added afterwards to make them look "classier". They felt a bit looser then they should have, which meant that he had been loosing weight again. While he needed to be fit in order to run track, he realized he was a bit thinner then what was healthy. _Note to start eating more_. _If I'm bigger and faster, perhaps Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't be able to keep up with me._ Harry climbed onto his bed, and leaned towards his night-table to set his alarm for the next morning. The blinking lights of the digital clock read 11:00pm, which meant that 6:00am would be arriving quickly. Harry groaned and got up to turn off the light. He tried not to trip on anything on his way back to his bed. The digital clock read 11:05, but Harry didn't see it since he was already asleep. When the clock flashed midnight, Harry began to dream.

Spirals of colors were flashing - a vibrant landscape of streamers. Harry tried to touch the beautiful abstract shapes, but they eluded him. They were creating a non-objective painting in his head. Harry watched as he rose like a bubble, his toes barely touching the ground and blended in with the shapes. One by one the colorful ribbons disappeared as they made contact with him, leaving Harry alone in a room covered in white canvas. Looking at himself he saw that his hands were iridescent and his hair was made of the satin streamers. He danced around; bouncing up and floating like a piece of cotton on a breeze. When he sang bubbles came out of his mouth and when he danced he left music lingering in his foot prints. Then without any warning he felt excruciating pain. The spirals of color which had been drifting around his body begin to dislodge themselves, pouring out through holes under his figure nails. The ribbons in his hair pulled themselves loose until only one long strand remained. It was a glossy white piece which interlaced itself in Harry's body and fused with his cells before disappearing all together. With a shout Harry woke.

A dull ache resounded in his body. _Probably because of Crabbe,_ Harry reasoned. He rolled over and turned off the alarm, which had apparently been beeping for the past five minutes. After turning on the light, he waked to mirror hanging above his dresser to examine his head. What he saw made his eyes go wide. Harry shrieked, before immediately holding his mouth shut with his hand to stop the dreadful noise. The first thing he had noticed was not a bruise on his forehead, for there was none to be seen, but his hair. The color and texture was still the same, but its length had changed. Instead of having short black hair, it was long and curled at his shoulders before trailing down his back. Inspecting closer he began to notice other changes. His chin was more delicate, his green eyes appeared a bit larger, and his cheekbones were more pronounced. It was almost as if he was looking at a girl. Once the thought had occurred, he franticly removed his cotton pajamas and tossed them onto the floor which revealed larger hips and a body he had definitely not gone to bed with. Harry could feel his heart rate increasing in panic at what he saw. A pair of small breasts lay where his chest had once been flat, and looking down there was some equipment missing. Somehow over the night Harry had turned into a girl. He bit down on his tongue to prevent himself from screaming in that voice that didn't belong to him. _What am I going to do_, he asking himself before sitting stiffly on his bed.

His clock started beeping again, which meant he had to hurry up and get dressed for school. But how would he be able to go to an all boy's school if he looked like a girl? The first thing he would have to do, was get rid off all his access hair. After rummaging in his desk drawer, he fetched a pair of scissors and started to hack off the long black hair and dump it into the trash. The result was even more horrifying. The cut looked uneven and made his head look smaller and feminine. He cut up one of his white pillowcases and started to wrap it around his body, luckily his breasts were small enough that this attempt was relatively successful. Pulling on his uniform, which still fit, he determined that he could still pass as a boy. There wasn't much more that he could do with his botched hair cut for now, so he planed to have that fixed for tomorrow. Grabbing his school things, Harry ran up the stairs and out the door. He had taken more time then normal to get ready, so he skipped out on breakfast not wanting to miss his school bus for a second time that week.

He didn't get to stay in school for long. After the first five minutes of class, he was marched to the headmaster's office to get a lecture on the importance of looking ones best. His hair didn't meet Saint Godric standards, and therefore he was not to return until he had the appearance of someone who valued their institution. The headmaster made an embarrassing phone call to Petunia, who had to leave work to pick him up. Harry sat miserably on the front steps of the school waiting for Petunia to come when he heard a group of people approaching.

"What happened to your hair?" He heard Malfoy taunting "Get caught in the lawnmower?" Harry forced himself to not spout a comeback, while he hid his head under his arms and sat in silence.

"Hey!" Crabbe said giving him a kick to his side, "He asked you a question." A couple of the other boys stifled their laughter. Harry still refused to take the bait, and bit on his tongue to keep from talking. Malfoy walked around and squatted in front of him, a smile teasing the side of his mouth as he lifted Harry's chin with one of his fingers.

"Well, don't we look pretty today?" Malfoy said sarcastically, roughing up Harry's hair even more. Harry just stared at him with a blank face and pinched lips while tried to keep his breathing calm. "You look different too." Harry's sweaty palms clenched the cement curb making the cartilage on his knuckles look more pronounced. _Can he tell?_ Harry panicked.

Petunia's blue car pulled up to the curb, forcing Malfoy to jump out of the way cursing. _Thank God_ Harry thought at his Aunts lucky timing. Grabbing his things Harry quickly got into the car, and slammed the door behind him. He knew Petunia would be looking at his hair, so he slouched down in the seat to make himself the least viral form possible.

"What did you do to your hair?" She asked.

"I cut it this morning"

"Why?"

"Too long." He replied.

"Well, it looks dreadful." Harry nodded in agreement as he listened to Petunia rapidly tapping her nails against the steering wheel. "Well, lets get it fixed."

After getting his hair fixed up in an appropriate manner, Harry was returned to school. His chest was hurting from being bound all day; however he didn't dare loosen the strips of linen. He hated that he had to analyze his every movement and think consciously every time he wanted to say something, so that his voice wouldn't sound to girly. Trudging to his English Literature class he sat at his desk and took out his notebook. His teacher entered the classroom and turned to write a quote on the chalk board.

"_My meaning simply is, that whatever I have tried to do in life, I have tried with all my heart to do well; that whatever I have devoted myself to, I have devoted myself to completely; that in great aims and in small, I have always been thoroughly in earnest."_

"Today you will be having a pop quiz." The teacher told his class. "Without looking at your notes, please write down the name of the book, and author of the quote I have just listed. It is a book you have studied in class from this semester, so I anticipate your correct responses." Putting his things away and taking out a scrape piece of paper, Harry read over the quote a couple of times. He was terrible at memorization, especially names, dates, and stupid book titles. Suddenly a smile began to creep onto his face, as he remembered where the passage had come from. This sort of thing never happened. Grinning, Harry wrote down the name of the author, and the book before listing the chapter number for good measure.

_David Copperfield by Charles Dickens listed in Chapter 42: Mischief_

With an uplift of confidence, Harry wondered if being a girl was such a terrible tragedy after all.

While his classes had gone by smoothly, track practice was another matter. In the changing rooms, Harry was forced to hide in a bathroom stall to get dressed so that his team mates wouldn't notice the changes that plagued his body. Once he started doing laps, his legs no longer had the endurance he had built after years of practice, which made him feel slow and sloppy. Coach Hooch even took him aside to question his performance, and whether he was feeling able to compete during the encroaching tournament. Harry was forced to tell her that it was a passing thing and he would be fine in a couple of days, yet Harry was beginning to worry. How long would it be until the coffee stopped affecting his body and he was back to normal?


End file.
